Just Reflections.
by Rey
Summary: The ruffs reflect, each in turn.. Sort of angst-y. PG-13 for language.
1. When danger's near,

Out-Of-Story Notes / Disclaimer: First of all, before any of you lovely people flaaame me, I want to note that Sniper (Yes! Sniper!) gave me permission to write this. Ha! Eat your hearts out, you compulsive flamers! Other than that, I like [comments][1]. And reviews. Well, you don't have to, but it'd be nice if you read this story and liked it. Also, this is kind of just a short, semi-depressing semi-romantic side story. To fill in for all that empty space. Mm.. that's about it. Oh, and the whole concept of the Powerpuff Universe, so on, belongs to Cartoon Network and Craig McCracken and junk. Yeh. So, on with the show!

just reflections.   
by Rey

The scene opens onto a small-sized, drab room. Three color-coded beds lie in three territorially-marked corners of this room. This, of course, is the improvised, makeshift pad of the Rowdyruff crew. What dim light there was came from a single, flickering flashlight, which the ruff's carrot-topped leader currently held.

Brick, seated on his bed with his legs crossed in a meditative position, clutches the flashlight, large red-hued eyes taking in the peaceful scene around him. His brothers were already sound asleep, Boomer clutching a small doll fashioned in the likeness of Bubbles, a slight frown etched onto his features as he slept, and Butch acting out his violent dream physically, half-punching and kicking with muffled grunts. The red-capped one sighed, removing that trademark baseball cap and reaching slowly to lay it on the dresser. Setting the flashlight on the mattress for a moment, he brought his hands up to run back through his scruffy orange bangs. It had been a busy day for all three, what with their training and hardly any breaks. Their aching desire just to see the girls again, however, made it all the worse.

A sigh escaped as he closed those owl-liked orbs for a moment, inhaling deeply. _Calm and breathe deep_, Blossom would have told him... But no, thinking about her hurt. Wrenching his mind away from thoughts of his most dear beloved, he instead turned his attentions to his brothers, and their respective sides of their room.

Boomer. Oh, he was so interested by fighter planes, the posters on the navy-blue wall and the models by his bedside said it all. Brick could just faintly remember the sound of Bubbles' delighted giggling. Boomer was one lucky guy... but then, weren't they all? Oh, and of course there were those juvenile Pocket Monster things. It had never come to Brick why Boomer enjoyed playing with them. And then again, they were all different. His brothers probably found him strange for reading so many books on wartime tactics and history and everything else that they found boring. It made Brick feel better, even though he was alone in his head, and his thoughts echoed strangely. Just his way of getting away, really.

Butch. Oh, he was still kicking up a racket. It was a wonder how Boomer could sleep through that noise. Dreaming of Bubbles, perhaps. Brick's eyes traveled to the wall that was painted dark green in Butch's corner, and the numerous posters and magazine tear-outs that covered it. Weapons, vehicles, and... Well, he wouldn't think about the women that were striking various sultry poses next to the weapons, most just barely clothed. Brick was completely devoted to Blossom. He only hoped she knew.

Just at that moment, the unsteadily sputtering light emitted from the flashlight disappeared with a quiet 'pop'. The room was devoid of the former dull light and Brick had to give himself a few moments to let his eyes adjust. With a stifled snort, Boomer turned over, still clutching his little Bubbles doll. Brick, yawning, stretched towards the end of his bed where, lying on the pillow was his own little 'chibi' doll. In the back of his mind, that tiny, persistent little voice cried, _What could Blossom be doing now? _The sane part of his brain replied, _Sleeping, like any regular person_. Blossom was so adorable when she slept. Adorable? More like... breathtakingly beautiful, the way her hair spread out onto the pillow, framing her face like a halo, a heavenly light, when she forgot to tie it up.

Dimly holding the doll close to his heart, his round eyes slowly flickered to the dresser. Neatly framed was a photo of Blossom. His only photo of her. Oh, and she looked so lovely in it too... His heart just melted.

And his mind wandered back. On a trip down memory lane, almost. Flashback. He could see it clearly now, Blossom's enchantingly beautiful face crinkled in anger. She pointed at him, raging, "You and your ruffian brothers were going to ambush my sisters and myself!" They had argued violently. It almost brought a tear to his eye, but just in the knick of time he caught himself, though holding a "finger" to his eye in case. Brick's eyes shimmered in some strange light as he turned his gaze downwards towards the doll he held tightly, and towards the photograph on the nightstand.

"I love you, Blossom. God, I love you." Biting his lip, he closed his eyes slowly, hugging the doll all the tighter. He was captivated, enraptured by her sweet features, her melodious voice, the way her lovely hair cascaded down her shoulders, more beautiful than a thousand rainbows or waterfalls. And it wasn't just her appearance. It was as if they were made for each other.

_ But aren't we? _So alike. It couldn't just be a coincidence, could it?... But problems like these couldn't divert the course of his thoughts. All he wished for was when this would all finally be over. When he could go back to Blossom and they could live happily ever after.

_What am I thinking? _He was dreaming about living in a fairy tale world with her. Mentally reprimanding himself (and quite viciously), _Rowdyruffs can't be wussy, dammit! It's the isolation getting to me... _Excuses sprung to his mind, but he knew the real reason. He wasn't isolated, he was just.. away. Away from Blossom. And it wasn't affecting just him, either. He'd noted that Boomer would spent extended periods of time staring into space, holding his Bubbles doll. Butch seemed distracted, even during fights, so much that he would become careless. Either way, he missed his girl. If there was only some way to talk to her.. contact her... even just say "Hello, how are you?"

He was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the form of Butch sit up in his bed to glare at him. Butch cleared his throat semi-loudly and snapped brusquely in Brick's direction. "Jeez, Brick, it's two-fucking-AM. Will you stop starin' at the fuckin' ceiling and get some sleep?!" Butch's language, as usual, was laden with curses and strong words. Brick couldn't figure out how he'd woken his brother, but he decided he wouldn't push the matter. Blossom... Blossom wouldn't want him to.

"A'ight, sorry, man. Jus' thinkin'." 

Butch's harsh expression softened slightly, and he tilted his head as he formed a question. "The girls, huh?"

One eyebrow raised at how his brother had read him so easily, he nodded in reply. Butch shrugged, sitting up straighter to study Brick with a strange expression, almost as if Brick were a laboratory animal showing signs of some uncharacteristic behavior.

"It's... it's gotten to me too, this loneliness. I miss 'em _ so_ fuckin' much, 'specially Buttercup." If it's imaginable, Butch gave an lovesick sigh. Brick just grinned, but laid off the mocking comments. It was late, after all, and he was just starting to feel the weariness after so long of non-stop action.

Butch spoke up again after a moment or two to let that sink in, scratching the side of his head wearily. "Jus' think 'bout when we'll have 'em back again. Worth waitin' through all this training shit, eh?" A subtle grin showed on Butch's calloused face, owl-like green eyes blinking open and closed slowly.

"Yeah..." Brick paused, to return Butch's small grin with one of his own. A pause, and, "...Well, goin' to bed then, like you said. Goodnight, Butch." Brick ended the conversation, yawning widely and stretching, attempting to use those subtle body nuances to influence Butch into going to sleep and leaving him alone.

"'night," Butch muttered in his voice that was more like a constant growl, and rolled over. Within moments he was soundly, and at this moment peacefully, asleep once more.

Brick's cheeky ruff grin turned to a soft smile as he slowly straightened out his pillow, kicking back the covers to nudge himself under them. "_Butch's smarter than he shows_," he thought. And, holding the Blossom doll tight, he nuzzled down into the bedding, closing his eyes slowly, to finally and thankfully be consumed into dreams of their happier days.

   [1]: mailto:TheAK472@aol.com



	2. When trouble calls,

Out

Out-Of-Story Notes / Disclaimer: ... ::copies and pastes from the previous story:: First of all, before any of you lovely people flaaame me, I want to note that Sniper (Yes! Sniper!) gave me permission to write this. Ha! Eat your hearts out, you compulsive flamers! Other than that, I like [comments][1]. And reviews. Well, you don't have to, but it'd be nice if you read this story and liked it. Oh, writing this is going slower than ever, that stupid scratch on my glasses is boooothering me. Mm.. that's about it. Oh, and the whole concept of the Powerpuff Universe, so on, belongs to Cartoon Network and Craig McCracken and junk. Yeh. So, on with the show!

just reflections... 2   
by Rey

Ms Plutonia, sporting a spotlessly white laboratory getup, and holding a clipboard with a pen attached, peeks into the boys' room. She usually trusted her boys, but sometimes you just don't know. Under the pretense of checking to see if her boys were asleep and not faking it, she entered the room, careful not to wake them. First to the side of Boomer's bed, leaning down to gently press a kiss to his forehead and tuck in his covers, and the same to Butch. By now, Brick had fallen asleep, and Ms Plutonia gave him his goodnight kiss and neatened his blanket. With a little bit of a smile on her rather weathered features, she then exits the room, pausing to gaze back at them and pronounce a goodnight.

As the door closed, Butch shifted in his bed, lapsing into another one of his numerous violent dreams. Brick was now sleeping soundly, his head nuzzled down into his dark red pillow. But once one looked closer at the blonde Rowdyruff with those immense blue eyes, one could tell there was something not quite right. The way he stared towards space in a pitifully apathetic way, the way he pressed his cheek against the small Bubbles doll.

The moment Ms Plutonia had closed the door, his baby-blue lids opened slow and wide to reveal shimmering eyes, in fear, or perhaps loneliness ~ though with this little blonde 'ruff, it was most likely the latter. Earlier, he had heard his brothers talking, but about what he was not sure, for at the time he was still half-sleeping and just hearing rather than listening. Now he regretted it, for since they had both succumbed to sleep he was left talking to himself.

And, as if hit by a flash of sudden realization, Boomer held the Bubbles doll out at arm's length and gazed at it. He knew then, and just then, that he and his brothers were pining away for the girls. _Their_ girls. Perhaps it had taken him an obscene amount of time to realize this; perhaps he shouldn't have spent all that time, all those days, yearning to be by Bubbles' side in his own infatuated way; perhaps he should've gotten on with life with the thought that he _would _see her again.

Was his little _Cheri_ thinking of him, he wondered, carefully squeezing the little Bubbles likeness closer. Did she wonder about him like he wondered about her? Were her enchantingly delightful giggles already fading from memory? He banished that last thought, though, he could still hear the ringing laughter as if she were in the room with him. Holding him, caressing... Boomer shuddered. Innocent little Bubbles affected him more than she could comprehend.

But that wasn't the only attraction between the two blondes. It was as if there was a telepathic bond between them, a link, an elastic band that could never break, stretched between them, that connected their minds and thoughts. Could she hear him thinking? He tried forming a "loud" thought. But there was, of course, no response.

After a while or two of waiting for a "reply" thought, he dismissed the thought of telepathy impossible and at the very least, silly. Instead, he simply cradled the Bubbles doll closer, repeating her name like a mantra. Boomer liked the way the last syllable rolled off his tongue easily, and the sweet memories it brought back to him.

He remembered their countless days spent with a box of crayons and sheets of paper. They were both partial to drawing, almost as a form of therapy which simply became all the more therapeutical when with each other. Bubbles would draw her and Boomer, or perhaps just Boomer, at the beach, in the park, at school, in a restaurant with her, anything. Boomer himself would draw her and her alone, often picturing her as a fairy-like princess descending from the heavens, or disposing of some Townsville-threatening monster. For their one-week anniversary, he had crudely drawn her a card saying, "Happy one-week anniversary, _Cheri_. I love you. X X X". He remembered her reaction ~ that oh-so-familiar giggling and a hug for him. "Aww, Boomie!" She'd said. "You're so sweet."

With a sigh, Boomer shook his head. He really was pining away. Was he getting thinner? Hadn't Ms Plutonia commented on how he was slowly, but surely, losing weight? If only he could remember her actual words. Bubbles wasn't bad for him, no, but when they were apart, she ~ or at least her distant memory ~ seemed to be eating at his health. 

However, the blonde ruff did not realize he was still repeating his mantra, albeit quietly, but still most annoyingly. Soon, both his brothers were half-awake and glaring at him. Butch was first to break his repetitive 'hymn'.

"That's twice I've been woken up tonight, by you two dorks," Butch growled. Boomer started, as if waking up, and gazed at both the red and the green ruff wide-eyed and vacantly, quite like Patrick the star fish would while trying to form a thought.

"What?" Boomer finally asked, clutching the doll tighter, sort of indignant at having his thoughts interrupted. They were quite satisfying thoughts, too... but he wouldn't delve into that.

"Di'n't you realize you were chantin' _somethin' _over and over again?" Brick glared also. "Your stupid _mantra_ disrupted a _very_ pleasant dream ~" But he fell silent, realizing he'd said too much. Somewhere to his right, Butch flashed teeth in a grin, quite amused by Brick's "slip of tongue". Boomer just sighed forlornly, returning his gaze to outer space and the fifth dimension.

"What kiiiind of dream?" Butch mocked rudely. "Did it involve you and _Blossy-dearest_?" He snickered at his own wit, adding, "Doin'... _stuff _to each other?" Sure, the green ruff was mature in his own ways, but not all of the time. Brick just scowled, and crossed his arms.

"I just suggest we get back to sleep. You bastard."

Butch snickered again, hiding it behind a hand. He knew he'd gotten to Brick. "So, leader-boy gettin' down and dirty, huh? Want something _more_, eh? Ha ha, I understand how you feel."

Brick just shrugged, maintaining a calm look, though it was quite clear to anyone who knew him well that he was seething inside. "Go back to sleep, dickheads. We haveta get up early tomorrow mornin', in case you forgot.

Brick's words were the last spoken that hour, and soon all three brothers were back in dreamland.

For now.

   [1]: mailto:TheAK472@aol.com



	3. You can count on us.

Out

Out-Of-Story Notes / Disclaimer: ::does the copy-and-paste dance:: Once again, I will note that Sniper gave me, Surfer Dude Rey Person, permission to write this. Ooh, and I like POLITE, INTELLIGENT [comments][1]. And reviews. Well, you don't have to, but it'd be nice if you read this story-thing and liked it. La la la, I have math homework to do but instead I'll write this story. Um... And yes, this is Butch's turn. Mind you, it's not the end of the JR series-thing. Oh, and... I know it seems kind of like a stupid mushy story when it starts, but I promise it ends normally and angst-y and miserably. Mm.. that's about it. Oh, and the whole concept of the Powerpuff Universe, so on, belongs to Cartoon Network and Craig McCracken and junk. Yeh. So, on with the show!

just reflections... 3  
by Rey

(Short Introduction)

We return to the same long night for the boys, and from their last pow-wow all three ruffs are now sleeping peacefully. Even Butch, who is not, oddly enough, fighting imaginary enemies in his slumber, but instead dozing serenely like his brothers.

But wait ~ if we listen closer, the telltale sound of snoring invades the air of harmony like a buzz saw attacking a log. For Brick, denial is a river in Egypt, as they always say. Let us not disturb Brick or Boomer, who have already considered their thoughts and reflected accordingly. The greatest challenge indeed would be to focus on Butch, the green ruff with an attitude. A mystery, a vague bit of anonymity. Revealing his deepest thoughts to anyone, even his own blood, is a most shunned practice. Instead he holds up his mask of toughiosity and harshness, adding in just a swirl of obscurity to produce the final product, the Butch we know today. Although he does not suppress his humanity, sometimes showing actual kindness, he is truly (madly? deeply?) a Rowdyruff. After all, if he, alternatively, had chosen to be "girlish", would he not be just like Boomer? Ha ha ha. Just brotherly companionship.

Butch grunted in his sleep, clutching a pillow. As they were no red ruffs swaying around on their beds or blue ruffs chanting, he was fast and deeply asleep. And dreaming, too, as one could tell by the fluttering eye movements under his eyelids. We shall delve into Butch's dreams. He won't really mind if we invade his privacy for a while.

(Begin Dream Sequence)

"There is no spoon, there is no spoon, there is no ~" Butch sat up sharply, rubbing his right eye. 

At first glance he appeared to be sitting in an endless field. On closer inspection this was found to be true, as he was firmly planted in a bed of wildflowers. As far as the eye could see was simply green, and speckled on that infinite green were splashes of rainbow, marigolds, buttercups, bluebells, orchids...

Butch blinked, pushing himself to his feet. Flowers? Field? Looking up, he saw a great expanse of blue sky. Definitely not where he was when he fell asleep. Was this a trick his brothers were playing on him? He wouldn't really put it past them, but...

"Butch..." What? A muffled voice called him, echoing and reverberating through time and space, through his head. It was a familiar sort of voice, though, sweet ringing through his ears. Hurriedly he spun around, and just barely he could make out a light-green figure jetting towards him, a trail of fluorescent green light following and fading away like a forgotten memory.

"Buttercup?" His voice was tinged with excitement, joy, and just a bit of apprehension as he hastened to meet her, his own dark-green trail following. What was going on here? But, well, who really cared? It was Buttercup. Buttercup, his dearly beloved. His greatest, his only love.

They met in a tight embrace, intertwined trails of green rolling about the field. A romantic scene set in an unbelievably perfect backdrop of wildflowers and sunshine. As they slowed to a stop, Buttercup hovered closer to Butch who was sprawled on the grass, pressing her lips to his just gently. Butch flinched, blinking, and smiling dumbly, savoring their mingled tastes before she slowly pulled away to gaze at him, almost questioningly.

"Butterc-cup... I've... missed you..." He stammered nervously, staring into her almost unblinking green eyes, trying to convey his feelings. He wasn't too eloquent, and neither were his brothers, but he tried his best.

She was silent in reply, instead, slowly leaning closer to him again, a slightly seductive smile playing about her soft lips. Butch just grinned, closing his eyes, expecting another liplock. But instead, the figure that was so warm and real in his arms began to feel like mist. He opened his eyes quickly.

"..Buttercup?" And indeed, the form he held dearly was fading away. Falling into him, and slowly the last wisps of Buttercup disappeared without a trace. He blinked, and it took him a moment or two to digest what had just happened.

"N-no... Buttercup... Buttercup, come back!" He cried urgently, frantically. His arms fell to the ground helplessly, and he helped himself to a standing position. "I wasn't ready to say goodbye yet, I wasn't ready to say goodbye..." But his voice simply faded into the overwhelming silence of the fields, as he was left standing alone again.

And, raising his hands to an unresponsive, perfectly blue sky, he cried aloud, "Why?!"

(End Dream Sequence)

Butch sat up in his bed, clutching at the dark green blankets, eyes wide, his body racked by silent sobs. He managed to stay quiet, the only sound being the slightly harsh intake of breath. One half of his mind screamed, "What would Brick and Boomer do if they see us like this? Butch? Butch?! Are you listening to me?" And the other half screamed back, "I want Buttercup! I want Buttercup!..."

Anxious glances to the photograph of them embracing on his nightstand. Butch was beside himself, almost hysterical from... from grief? No, from loneliness, just like his brothers. Their lives were centered on the girls, their girls, their loves. And there was nothing else to it. He loved her.

"I .. love you... Buttercup."

Biting down on his lower lip - hard - he squeezed his eyes shut, and dabbed the corners of the blankets on them. He couldn't act like this. He had to be tough for her, he had to be Buttercup's ruff. A weak smile crossed his face at the thought of her. Buttercup, yeah, Buttercup. Butch was going to live for her, live for the time he'd see her again. When they'd all be a "happy family". Dumb thoughts, he knew, but... it was one hell of a promise to himself. Within seconds, his breathing was calmed, and he no longer shuddered with pain at every breath.

Butch carefully laid back down on his bed, giving his best attempt to smoothen out his bedding. No more nightmares, he was complete and calm. It was all for Buttercup.

Author's Ending Note: I'd like to end this short chapter with a song. But it's not a songfic! So don't get that idea.

Sleater-Kinney ~ Get Up

And when the body finally starts to let go  
Let it all go at once, not piece by piece  
But like a whole bucket of stars dumped into the universe, whoo!  
Watch it go! Goodbye small hands, goodbye small heart, goodbye small head,  
My soul's climbing treetrunks and swinging from every branch.

They're calling on me, they're calling on me.  
I'm alright.  
They're calling on me, they're calling on me.  
I'm not fine.

Do you think I'm an animal?  
Am I not?  
Do you like fur?  
Do you wanna come over?  
Are we captive only for a short time?  
Is there splendor? I'm not ashamed.  
Desire shoots through me like birds singing.  
(I am fine... I'm not right...)   
(The way you move, no waves were ever... quite as fluid.) 

They're calling on me, they're calling on me.  
I am fine.  
They're calling on me, they're calling on me.  
I'm not fine.

I hit the mark!  
I target moon, I target sky, I target sun.  
Fall down on the world, fall down on the world,  
Fall down on the world before it falls on you.

Like beggars, like stars,  
Like whores, us all,  
Like beggars, like dogs,  
Like stars, us all.

I'm not right.

Shoot straight for my heart.  
(And when you're near, no sky was ever, quite as clear.)

Like stars, so small,  
Like us, when we fall,  
Like beggars, like whores, like lovers,

Ooh, get up!  
Too far.  
Ooh, get up!

- I just felt this song related to Butch.

   [1]: mailto:TheAK472@aol.com



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